Now that I'm being led in worship by teams of casually dressed people who play guitars, drums and electronic keyboards I have occasionally lifted careful and reserved hands in praise to words and worship images projected on a large screen over the pulpit. I've learned to appreciate and enjoy this style of worship. Still when the pastor holds an old fashioned hymn sing on a Sunday evening I'm happily there thumbing through the hymnal.
There is one thing that has gotten me to scream and raise my hands in victory; and I'm somewhat ashamed to admit it. It's a football game. It's true, and I don't really like watching football! How strange is that? When Mrs. Tebow's baby boy's team won a game today I cheered and raised both hands in triumph. When my own boy played football, I was a screaming, fist pumping fool. Mrs. Tebow and I have something in common. We were both told that our babies wouldn't or shouldn't survive the womb. A miracle baby who's survived and thrived makes this mother's heart leap in joyful praise.
I expect God understands.
I Will Praise Him - The Isaacs